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A  RILL  FROM  THE  TOWN  PUMP 


IfhO 


A  HILL 
FROM  THE  TOWN  PUMP 

Nathaniel  /Lawthorne 


San  Francisco 


A  KILL 
FROM  THE  TOWN  PUMP 


Noon,  by  the  North  clock!  Noon,  by 
the  east !  High  noon,  too,  by  these  hot  sun- 
beams, which  fall,  scarcely  aslope,  upon  my 
head,  and  almost  make  the  water  bubble  and 
smoke,  in  the  trough  under  my  nose.  Truly, 
we  public  characters  have  a  tough  time  of 
it !  And,  among  all  the  town  officers,  chosen 
at  March  meeting,  where  is  he  that  sustains, 
for  a  single  year,  the  burthen  of  such  mani- 
fold duties  as  are  imposed,  in  perpetuity, 
upon  the  Town  Pump?  The  title  of 'town 


treasurer'  is  rightfully  mine,  as  guardian  of 
the  best  treasure  that  the  town  has.  The  over- 
seers of  the  poor  ought  to  make  me  their 
chairman,  since  I  provide  bountifully  for  the 
pauper,  without  expense  to  him  that  pays 
taxes.  I  am  at  the  head  of  the  fire  depart- 
ment, and  one  of  the  physicians  to  the  board 
of  health.  As  a  keeper  of  the  peace,  all  water- 
drinkers  will  confess  me  equal  to  the  con- 
stable. I  perform  some  of  the  duties  of  the 
town  clerk,  by  promulgating  public  notices, 
when  they  are  posted  on  my  front.  To  speak 
within  bounds,  I  am  the  chief  person  of  the 
municipality,  and  exhibit,  moreover  an  ad- 
mirable pattern  to  my  brother  officers,  by  the 
cool,  steady,  upright,  downright,  and  impar- 
tial discharge  of  my  business,  and  the  con- 
stancy with  which  I  stand  to  my  post.  Sum- 
mer or  winter,  nobody  seeks  me  in  vain ;  for, 
all  day  long,  I  am  seen  at  the  busiest  corner, 
just  above  the  market,  stretching  out  my 
arms,  to  rich  and  poor  alike ;  and  at  night,  I 
hold  a  lantern  over  my  head,  both  to  show 

[4] 


where  I  am,  and  keep  people  out  of  the 
gutters. 

At  this  sultry  noontide,  I  am  cupbearer  to 
the  parched  populace,  for  whose  benefit  an 
iron  goblet  is  chained  to  my  waist.  Like  a 
dram-seller  on  the  mall,  at  muster-day,  I  cry 
aloud  to  all  and  sundry,  in  my  plainest  ac- 
cents, and  at  the  very  tiptop  of  my  voice. 
Here  it  is,  gentlemen!  Here  is  the  good  li- 
quor! Walk  up,  walk  up,  gentlemen,  walk 
up,walk  up !  Here  is  the  superior  stuff!  Here 
is  the  unadulterated  ale  of  father  Adam  — 
betterthanCognac,Hollands,Jamaica,strong 
beer,  or  wine  of  any  price ;  here  it  is,  by  the 
hogshead  or  the  single  glass,  and  not  a  cent 
to  pay!  Walk  up,  gentlemen,  walk  up,  and 
help  yourselves! 

It  were  a  pity,  if  all  this  outcry  should 
draw  no  customers.  Here  they  come.  A  hot 
day,  gentlemen!  Quaff,  and  away  again,  so 
as  to  keep  yourselves  in  a  nice  cool  sweat. 
You,  my  friend,  will  need  another  cup-full, 
to  wash  the  dust  out  of  your  throat,  if  it  be 

[5} 


as  thick  there  as  it  is  on  your  cowhide  shoes. 
I  see  that  you  have  trudged  half  a  score 
of  miles  today ;  and,  like  a  wise  man,  have 
passed  by  the  taverns,  and  stopped  at  the 
running  brooks  and  well-curbs.  Otherwise, 
betwixt  heat  without  and  fire  within,  you 
would  have  been  burnt  to  a  cinder,  or  melted 
down  to  nothing  at  all,  in  the  fashion  of  a 
jelly-fish.  Drink,  and  make  room  for  that 
other  fellow, who  seeks  my  aid  to  quench  the 
fiery  fever  of  last  night's  potations,which  he 
drained  from  no  cup  of  mine.  Welcome,  most 
rubicund  sir !  You  and  I  have  been  great 
strangers, hitherto;  nor, to  confess  the  truth, 
will  my  nose  be  anxious  for  a  closer  intimacy, 
till  the  fumes  of  your  breath  be  a  little  less 
potent.  Mercy  on  you,  man !  the  water  abso- 
lutely hisses  down  your  red-hot  gullet,  and 
is  converted  quite  to  steam,  in  the  miniature 
tophet, which  you  mistake  for  your  stomach. 
Fill  again,  and  tell  me,  on  the  word  of  an 
honest  toper,  did  you  ever,  in  cellar,  tavern, 
or  any  kind  of  a  dram-shop,  spend  the  price 

[6] 


of  your  children's  food,  for  a  swig  half  so 
dehcious?  Now,  for  the  first  time  these  ten 
years,  you  know  the  flavor  of  cold  water. 
Good-by;  and,  whenever  you  are  thirsty  re- 
member that  I  keep  a  constant  supply  at  the 
old  stand.  Who  next.^  Oh,  my  little  friend,you 
are  let  loose  from  school,  and  come  hither 
to  scrub  your  blooming  face,  and  drown  the 
memory  of  certain  taps  of  the  ferule,  and 
other  schoolboy  troubles,  in  a  draught  from 
the  Town  Pump.  Take  it,  pure  as  the  current 
of  your  young  life.  Take  it,  and  may  your 
heart  and  tongue  never  be  scorched  with  a 
fiercer  thirst  than  now !  There,  my  dear  child, 
put  down  the  cup,  and  yield  your  place  to 
this  elderly  gentleman  who  treads  so  tenderly 
over  the  paving-stones,  that  I  suspea  he  is 
afraid  of  breaking  them.  What!  he  limps  by, 
without  so  much  as  thanking  me,  as  if  my 
hospitable  offers  were  meant  only  for  people 
who  have  no  wine  cellars.  Well,  well,  sir — 
no  harm  done,  I  hope!  Go  draw  the  cork, 
tip  the  decanter;  but,  when  your  great  toe 

[7] 


shall  set  you  a-roaring,  it  will  be  no  affair 
of  mine.  If  gentlemen  love  the  pleasant  titil- 
lation  of  the  gout,  it  is  all  one  to  the  Town 
Pump.  This  thirsty  dog,  with  his  red  tongue 
lolling  out,  does  not  scorn  my  hospitality, 
but  stands  on  his  hind  legs  and  laps  eagerly 
out  of  the  trough.  See  how  lightly  he  capers 
away  again !  Jowler,  did  your  worship  ever 
have  the  gout? 

Are  you  all  satisfied  ?  Then  wipe  your 
mouths,  my  good  friends;  and,  while  my 
spout  has  a  moment's  leisure,  I  will  delight 
the  town  with  a  fewhistorical  reminiscences. 
In  far  antiquity,  beneath  a  darksome  sha- 
dow of  venerable  bows,  a  spring  bubbled 
out  of  the  leaf-strewn  earth,  in  the  very  spot 
where  you  now  behold  me,  on  the  sunny 
pavement.  The  water  was  as  bright  and  clear, 
and  deemed  as  precious,  as  liquid  diamonds. 
The  Indian  sagamores  drank  of  it,  from  time 
immemorial,  till  the  fatal  deluge  of  the  fire- 
water burst  upon  the  red  men,  and  swept 
their  whole  race  away  from  the  cold  foun- 

[8] 


tains.  Endicott,  and  his  followers,  came  next, 
and  often  knealt  down  to  drink,  dipping  their 
long  beards  in  the  spring.  The  richest  goblet, 
then,  was  of  birch  bark.  Governor  Winthrop, 
after  a  journey  afoot,  from  Boston,  drank 
here,  out  of  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  The  elder 
Higginson  here  wet  his  palm,  and  laid  it  on 
the  brow  of  the  first  town-born  child.  For 
many  years  it  was  the  watering-place,  and, 
as  it  were,  the  washbowl  of  the  vicinity — 
whither  all  decent  folks  resorted,  to  purify 
their  visages,  and  gaze  at  them  afterwards — 
at  least,  the  pretty  maidens  did — in  the  mir- 
ror which  it  made.  On  Sabbath  days,  when- 
ever a  babe  was  to  be  baptized,  the  sexton 
filled  his  basin  here,  and  placed  it  on  the  com- 
munion table  of  the  humble  meeting-house, 
which  partly  covered  the  site  of  yonder  stately 
brick  one.  Thus,  onegeneration  after  another 
was  consecrated  to  Heaven  by  its  waters,  and 
cast  their  waxing  and  waning  shadows  into 
its  glassy  bosom,  and  vanished  from  the  earth, 
as  if  mortal  life  were  but  a  flitting  image  in 

[9] 


a  fountain.  Finally,  the  fountain  vanished 
also.  Cellars  were  dug  on  all  sides,  and  cart- 
loads of  gravel  flung  upon  its  source,  whence 
oozed  a  turbid  stream,  forming  a  mud-puddle, 
at  the  corner  of  two  streets.  In  the  hot  months, 
when  its  refreshment  was  most  needed,  the 
dust  flew  in  clouds  over  the  forgotten  birth- 
place of  the  waters,  now  their  grave.  But,  in 
the  course  of  time,  a  Town  Pump  was  sunk 
to  the  source  of  the  ancient  spring;  and  when 
the  first  decayed,  another  took  its  place — and 
then  another, and  still  another— till  here  stand 
I,  gentlemen  and  ladies,  to  serve  you  with  my 
iron  goblet.  Drink,  and  be  refreshed!  The 
water  is  as  pure  and  cold  as  that  which  slaked 
the  thirst  of  the  red  sagamore,  beneath  the 
aged  boughs,  though  now  the  gem  of  the 
wilderness  is  treasured  under  these  hot 
stones,  where  no  shadow  falls,  but  from  the 
brick  buildings.  And  be  it  the  moral  of  my 
story,  that,  as  this  wasted  and  long  lost  foun- 
tain is  now  known  and  prized  again,  so 
shall  the  virtues  of  cold  water,  too  little  val- 

[10] 


ued  since  your  father's  days,  be  recognized 
by  all. 

Your  pardon,  good  people !  I  must  in- 
terrupt my  stream  of  eloquence,  and  spout 
forth  a  stream  of  water,  to  replenish  the 
trough  for  this  teamster  and  his  two  yoke 
of  oxen,  who  have  come  from  Topsfield, 
or  somewhere  along  that  way.  No  part  of 
my  business  is  pleasanter  than  the  watering 
of  cattle.  Look!  how  rapidly  they  lower  the 
watermark  on  the  sides  of  the  trough,  till 
their  capacious  stomachs  are  moistened  with 
a  gallon  or  two  apiece,  and  they  can  afford 
time  to  breathe  it  in,  with  sighs  of  calm  en- 
joyment. Now  they  roll  their  quiet  eyes  a- 
round  the  brim  of  their  monstrous  drinking 

« 

vessel.  An  ox  is  your  true  toper. 

But  I  perceive,  my  dear  auditors,  that  you 
are  impatient  for  the  remainder  of  my  dis- 
course. Impute  it,  I  beseech  you,  to  no  de- 
fea  of  modesty,  if  I  insist  a  little  longer  on 
so  fruitful  a  topic  as  my  own  multifarious 
merits.  It  is  altogether  for  your  good.  The 

[ii] 


better  you  think  of  me,  the  better  men  and 
women  you  will  find  yourselves.  I  shall  say 
nothing  of  my  all-important  aid  on  washing- 
days;  though,  on  that  account  alone,  I  might 
call  myself  the  household  god  of  a  hundred 
families.  Far  be  it  from  me  also,  to  hint,  my 
respectable  friends,  at  the  show  of  dirty  faces, 
which  you  would  present,  without  my  pains 
to  keep  you  clean.  Nor  will  I  remind  you 
how  often,  when  the  midnight  bells  make 
you  tremble  for  your  combustible  town,  you 
have  fled  to  the  Town  Pump,  and  found  me 
always  at  my  post,  firm,  amid  the  confusion, 
and  ready  to  drain  my  vital  current  in  your 
behalf  Neither  is  it  worth  while  to  lay  much 
stress  on  my  claims  to  a  medical  diploma,  as 
the  physician,  whose  simple  rule  of  practice 
is  preferable  to  all  the  nauseous  lore,  which 
has  found  men  sick  or  left  them  so,  since  the 
days  of  Hippocrates.  Let  us  take  a  broader 
view  of  my  beneficial  influence  on  mankind. 
No;  these  are  trifles,  compared  with  the 
merits  which  wise  men  concede  to  me — if 

[12} 


■  not  in  my  single  self,  yet  as  the  representa- 
tive of  a  class — of  being  the  grand  reformer 
of  the  age.  From  my  spout  and  such  spouts  as 
mine,  must  flow  the  stream,  that  shall  cleanse 
our  earth  of  the  vast  portion  of  its  crime  and 
anguish,  which  has  gushed  from  the  fiery 
fountains  of  the  still.  In  this  mighty  enter- 
prise, the  cow  shall  be  my  great  confederate. 
Milk  and  water!  The  TOWN  PUMP  and 
the  COW!  Such  is  the  glorious  copartner- 
ship, that  shall  tear  down  the  distilleries  and 
brewhouses,uprootthevineyards,shatterthe 
cider-presses,  ruin  the  tea  and  coffee  trade, 
and,  finally  monopolize  the  whole  business 
of  quenching  thirst.  Blessed  consummation! 
Then,  Poverty  shall  pass  away  from  the  land, 
finding  no  hovel  so  wretched,  where  her 
squahdformmay  shelter  itself  Then,  Disease, 
for  lack  of  other  victims,  shall  knaw  its  own 
heart,  and  die.  Then  Sin,  if  she  do  not  die, 
shall  lose  half  her  strength.  Until  now,  the 
phrensy  of  hereditary  fever  has  raged  in  the 
human  blood,  transmitted  from  sire  to  son, 

[13] 


and  rekindled,  in  every  generation,  by  fresh 
draughts  of  Hquid  flame.  When  that  inward 
fire  shall  be  extinguished,  the  heat  of  passion 
cannot  but  grow  cool,  and  war — the  drunk- 
enness of  nations — perhaps  will  cease.  At 
least,therewill  be  no  war  of  households.  The 
husband  and  wife,  drinking  deep  of  peace- 
ful joy— a  calm  bliss  of  temperate  affections — 
shall  pass  hand  in  hand  through  life,  and  lie 
down,  not  reluctantly,  at  its  protracted  close. 
To  them,  the  past  will  be  no  turmoil  of  mad 
dreams,  nor  the  future  an  eternity  of  such 
moments  as  follow  the  delirium  of  the  drunk- 
ard. Their  dead  faces  shall  express  what  their 
spirits  were,  and  are  to  be,  by  a  lingering 
smile  of  memory  and  hope. 

Ahem!  Dry  work,  this  speechifying;  es- 
pecially to  an  unpractised  orator.  I  never 
conceived,  till  now,  what  toil  the  temperance 
lecturers  undergo  for  my  sake.  Hereafter, 
they  shall  have  the  business  to  themselves. 
Do,  some  kind  Christian,  pump  a  stroke  or 
two,  just  to  wet  my  whistle.  Thank  you,  sir! 

[14} 


My  dear  hearers,  when  the  world  shall  have 
been  regenerated,  by  my  instrumentality,  you 
will  collect  your  useless  vats  and  liquor  casks 
into  one  great  pile,  and  make  a  bonfire,  in 
honor  of  the  Town  Pump.  And,  when  I  shall 
have  decayed,  like  my  predecessors,  then,  if 
you  revere  my  memory,  let  a  marble  foun- 
tain, richly  sculptured,  take  my  place  upon 
this  spot.  Such  monuments  should  be  erected 
everywhere,  and  inscribed  with  the  names 
of  the  distinguished  champions  of  my  cause. 
Now  listen ;  for  something  very  important 
is  to  come  next. 

There  are  two  or  three  honest  friends  of 
mine — and  true  friends,  I  know,  they  are — 
who,  nevertheless,  by  their  fiery  pugnacity 
in  my  behalf,  do  put  me  in  fearful  hazard  of 
a  broken  nose,  or  even  a  total  overthrow 
upon  the  pavement,  and  the  loss  of  the  treas- 
ure which  I  guard.  I  pray  you,  gentlemen, 
let  this  fault  be  amended.  Is  it  decent,  think 
you,  to  get  tipsy  with  zeal  for  temperance, 
and  take  up  the  honorable  cause  of  the 

[15} 


Town  Pump,  in  the  style  of  a  toper,  fight- 
ing for  his  brandy  bottle? Or,  can  the  excel- 
lent qualities  of  cold  water  be  not  otherwise 
exemplified,  than  by  plunging,  slapdash,  in- 
to hot  water,  and  wofully  scalding  yourselves 
and  other  people?  Trust  me,  they  may.  In 
the  moral  warfare,  which  you  are  to  wage — 
and,  indeed,  in  the  whole  conduct  of  your 
lives — you  cannot  choose  a  better  example 
than  myself,  who  have  never  permitted  the 
dustandsultryatmosphere,theturbulenceand 
manifold  disquietudes  of  the  world  around 
me,  to  reach  that  deep,  calm  well  of  purity, 
which  may  be  called  my  soul.  And  when- 
ever I  pour  out  that  soul,  it  is  to  cool  earth's 
fever,  or  cleanse  its  stains. 

One  o'clock!  Nay,  then,  if  the  dinner-bell 
begins  to  speak,  I  may  as  well  hold  my  peace. 
Here  comes  a  pretty  young  girl  of  my  ac- 
quaintance,with  a  large  stone  pitcher  for  me 
to  fill.  May  she  draw  a  husband,  while  draw- 
ing her  water,  as  Rachel  did  of  old.  Hold 
out  your  vessel,  my  dear!  There  it  is,  full  to 

[16} 


the  brim ;  so  now  run  home,  peeping  at  your 
sweet  image  in  the  pitcher,  as  you  go;  and 
forget  not,  in  a  glass  of  my  own  hquor  to 
drink — 
'  SUCCESS  TO  THE  TOWN  PUMP  ! ' 


170  copies  of  "The  Rill  from  the  Town 
Pump"  have  been  printed  by  Edwin  and 
Robert  Grabhorn  at  47  Kearny  street,  San 
Francisco,  California.  August  1920. 


14  DAY  USE  1 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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